Scenes
by subdivided
Summary: ...from the marriage of Sasuke and Hinata Uchiha. The story is told out of order. [Sasuhina; warnings for (possibly) unwanted sex.]
1. 1

Title: Scenes

Summary: …from the married life of Sasuke and Hinata Uchiha. The story is told out of order.  
Author: subdivided

Rating: R for (possibly) unwanted sex  
Genre: angstfest  
Disclaimer: Naruto isn't mine

Scene 1

* * *

It has always been far too easy to hurt her.

Hinata does not cry, but her eyes are expressive. She makes noises. She is obvious in her love, and she obviously does not give it to him. Sasuke has told her, frankly, that he does not want it. He has seen the pain of his words blossom and die behind her eyes.

At their wedding, the sun is shining. Hinata counts less than half her family present. Sasuke counts no one; it is the only time he has ever gotten drunk. Of all those he could have wed, he is glad it is Hinata. He can hurt her without trying.

Why? Why bother if there is no challenge to it? Sasuke wonders, sometimes, if he has ever really won at all. For all his harsh words, she never seems to hate him; for all the weaknesses he's shown her, she never seems to hold him in contempt. She acknowledges defeat through word and action; but for all their outward blankness, her eyes do not.

Another thrust, then. Hinata sobs into the linoleum, her fingers scrabbling for purchase in an empty room. It is cold and her breathing is overly harsh; Sasuke thinks his right side might be developing a stitch. How much worse it must be for her, whose face and chest are pressed against the floor.

Hinata sobs again but does not speak; Sasuke does no more than grunt. The shutter bangs once, loudly, a reminder of the chill in the air and that neither has bothered to close the window. When it is over, he helps her to her feet. For a moment he supports her weight.

"I-I'll start the tea," she says, adjusting the clothing she had not bothered to remove, as he had not. "Um. Do you want green, or chamomile?"

"Chamomile," Sasuke says. "I'm taking a shower."

He turns to stalk away, and does not remove so much as a sock until the bathroom door is firmly closed behind him. He can still hear Hinata through the wall, humming, and it irritates him. He covers the sound with running water.

The warmth of the water eases muscles that should already have been relaxed. He tries to think of nothing much but is, as always, unsuccessful.

In the kitchen, Hinata hums the only lullaby her father ever taught her. She mops the floor. She sets a pot to boil and doesn't leave it, her hands held in front of her for warmth. Her nails are chipped and so is the pot, two small white specks like clouds against the spout. The pot itself is summer-sky blue: an encouraging color, she thinks.

Sitting together at the table with Sasuke, Hinata pours him another cup of tea. Her own is empty; she has never liked chamomile. Neither speaks. They have nothing to say to one another.


	2. 2

Title: Scenes  
Summary: …from the married life of Sasuke and Hinata Uchiha. The story is told out of order.

Author: subdivided

Rating (this scene): PG

Genre: angstfest

Disclaimer: Naruto isn't mine

Scene 2

* * *

At Sasuke and Hinata's wedding the sky is bright and cloudless, the air brittle like autumn even though it is only the fifth month. Robe-dying month, though few in Konoha still practice that old custom. The ceremony is held in the largest park within village walls; an old and roofless shrine stands exactly in the center. This is the best time of the year for an outdoor wedding, just before summer heat wilts the greenery, but all Sasuke can think is how the vastness of the sky makes the wedding smaller. A wedding between Konoha's two most prominent clans ought to be better attended than this.

It is, at the Hyuuga's insistence, a family-only affair. Looking out into the crowd, Sasuke cannot see a single other set of dark pupils and he drinks, steadily, until faces blur together and he can no longer distinguish more than pale ovals framed by black hair. It is the first time he has ever gotten drunk. He suspects that he is being punished, by God or the new Clan Head or both, but somehow he doesn't care - doesn't or won't or can't. He tells himself that if this is a battle then he has already won.

Hinata is wearing red and the color is too strong for her; the rest of her family wears white as is their custom. Sasuke will never be subject to their customs and wears black. In perhaps the only concession he will make today - other than to this place, this ceremony, these guests - his robes are of the same high-cut style as Hinata's. The wedding itself is short but is followed by an excessively awkward gathering and this, too, is custom.

Midway through Sasuke and Hinata's customary torture, the crowd shifts uneasily. There has been an unplanned interruption- Naruto has arrived. He comes from over the sculpted hills to the south, and with him come half their graduating class. And Sasuke doesn't want this, would rather no one came than these poor substitutes for the dead, but he is swept up in joviality before he can object. Hinata, of course, is delighted.

"Na-Naruto!" she says. "Kiba! I-I'm glad you came." Even this small confession brings with it a small guilty start, but the Hyuuga Clan Head seems resigned and the rest look relieved.

"Like I would miss it!" Naruto says. He can't keep still, his weight shifting back and forth like water in a bucket and Sasuke almost expects him to slosh over. "Really, Hinata, don't you know me better than that? No way I'd let your stuffy old relatives keep me away!" And Hinata smiles like her namesake, like the sun that's been present since early dawn but was distorted, somehow, by the very clarity of the morning air. Already the day's events are losing their crispness, their edges no longer sharp and well-defined.

Sasuke makes conversation with his sake and with Lee and Sakura while Naruto and the rest spread though the crowd, color bleeding through the white Hyuugas like dye. Lee and Sasuke engage in an impromptu arm-wrestling match which Sasuke wins handily despite the alcohol and Lee's greater natural talent at being drunk.

Sakura and Ino fuss over Hinata's hair and robes, the later of which will be sold tomorrow to cover the costs of refurbishing a small house on the outskirts of the Uchiha compound. But at this moment they are beautiful; the brilliant dye brings out the flush in Hinata's cheeks as she blushes hotly. Sakura straightens from the bent position she has adopted to whisper in Hinata's ear, grinning and with a wicked gleam in her eyes. From the other side of the field there is a loud yell; Naruto is being idiotic as usual.

Sasuke won this battle the instant Hinata accepted.


	3. 3

Title: Scenes from the Married Life of Sasuke and Hinata Uchiha  
Author: subdivided  
Disclaimer: Naruto isn't mine

**03. Cleaning**

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* * *

**

"Come on up, then," Sasuke says, and stands fractionally more to the left. He doesn't bother to lift his feet, only leans slightly, and Hinata squeezes past him into the upper storeroom with her eyes on the ground. His sandals are covered in dust. The rest of the room isn't, because Sasuke cleans the same way he does most other things: with ruthless, vicious efficiency.

Hinata wonders what she is supposed to do. The floor as already been swept and the garbage thrown away. Furniture too valuable to be sold has been neatly stacked. Items of great sentimental value have been relegated to furthest corners of the room. She is unnecessary.

Sasuke either does not notice her crisis or does not care. He returns to a pile of old scrolls and meticulously begins to clean them. They will be re-shelved according to age, level of difficulty, and jutsu type; Hinata understands that there is a psychological basis to her husband's obssesive need for order and does not intervene. Instead she picks the most unassuming piece of furniture in the room-a chest of old clothes-and begins to sort. She quickly grows tired of blue cloth emblazoned with the Uchiha fan.

"Should… ah…a-are we keeping any of these?" she asks, a woman's skirt with red and white trim in her hands.

"Un," Sasuke says. He does not look up.

The air is full of dust. Hinata opens all the windows she can reach brings a fan, but quickly turns it off because the noise makes her uncomfortable. She finds the silence just as uncomfortable but would rather not intrude. They are well-matched, she thinks: the man who would always be in control and the woman who consistently allows herself to be controlled. Maybe they will spend their entire life together in painful silent understanding.

The storeroom is well-lit, with several skylights. She follows the light from one across the floor, from an ornate mirror with cracks like spider webs to a small table with bowl-like indentations to her husband's back. Sasuke does not look up, even when the light kissing his neck moves into his eyes.

Hinata gives up and flees downstairs.


End file.
